Committing To The Mistake: Why Recovery Matters More Than Perfection
I am fairly certain my 12-year-old daughter, Sydney, made Little League history last week.She stole home.By walking.
Communication is one of those things we all agree matters.
At work. At home. In leadership. In relationships.
And yet, if we are being honest, most communication does not happen until something starts going sideways. Someone is frustrated. A deadline gets missed. A misunderstanding turns into tension. A good employee unexpectedly resigns.
We communicate when there is something to fix.
Over the years, I have started to believe the best communication happens long before anyone thinks it is necessary. Before confusion. Before frustration. Before emotions get involved.
Because most problems are not actually people problems.
They are expectation problems.
And expectation problems almost always come back to communication.
Most problems are not actually people problems. They are expectation problems.
Last weekend reminded me of this in a way I was not expecting.
We hosted an after-prom party for our daughter. And to be clear, this was not intended to be a quiet gathering of teenagers politely discussing their future plans.
We wanted them to have fun. We wanted them to laugh too loud, stay up too late, and make the kind of memories that somehow become stories years later.
We also wanted neighbors who still waved at us afterward.
So before the party, we did something a little unexpected.
We delivered small bags to our neighbors. Inside were snacks, drinks, ear plugs, and a note warning them that prom season had officially arrived and things might get loud. We included our phone number and invited them to text us if things got out of hand.
Thankfully, nobody needed to.
And no, the teenagers were not quiet.
Afterward, I found myself thinking about how much that small gesture reminded me of leadership.
At PayNW, we have something called a “small box.”
Every employee, regardless of role, has clarity around the thing they are ultimately responsible for. At the end of the day, if everything else feels messy, changing, or unclear, this is the thing that matters most.
But the small box serves another purpose too.
It also makes clear the line that cannot be crossed. Said differently, the one thing that, if ignored or violated, would most likely get someone fired.
I know.
That sounds extreme.
And honestly, that is kind of the point.
For someone in Tax & Banking, their small box is providing worry-free tax compliance and ACH transactions. That means accuracy, security, and proper verification are non-negotiable.
For me as CEO, my small box is protecting the top and bottom line of PayNW and protecting our culture.
The actual “small box” looks different depending on the role, but the principle stays the same:
Everyone knows what matters most before there is ever a situation involving it.
When people first hear about this, they sometimes think it sounds intimidating. Too direct. Too uncomfortable.
But what I have learned as a leader is this:
Unclear expectations create far more anxiety than direct communication ever does.
Most leaders avoid conversations like this because they worry clarity will make people nervous. I have found the opposite to be true.
People tend to relax when they understand the rules of the road.
They stop trying to read between the lines. They stop wondering what matters most. They stop discovering standards only after someone else accidentally crossed one.
The “small box” is really proactive communication disguised as accountability.
It says:
“I care enough about you to tell you clearly now instead of surprising you later.”
Oddly enough, the same thing happened with prom.
Nobody complained.
Not because a backyard full of teenagers suddenly discovered volume control.
They definitely did not.
But because expectations had already been set.
We do not talk about this enough, but most frustration does not come from bad intent. It comes from mismatched expectations that were never communicated in the first place.
In leadership.
In parenting.
Even in neighborhoods.
Because here is the thing:
The best communication often happens before anyone thinks it is necessary.
And more often than not, clear expectations change everything.
Gratefully,![]()
I am fairly certain my 12-year-old daughter, Sydney, made Little League history last week.She stole home.By walking.
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